


Reminisce

by johnllauren



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, the historical gays are at it again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 15:14:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6200044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnllauren/pseuds/johnllauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Have you ever… stopped to think about it?” Aaron asks. They’re on their backs, staring up at the stars – rather, lack thereof. As the city – their city – has industrialized, the stars have gotten harder to see. </p>
<p>“The reincarnation thing?” Alexander inquires.</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reminisce

“Have you ever… stopped to think about it?” Aaron asks. They’re on their backs, staring up at the stars – rather, lack thereof. As the city – their city – has industrialized, the stars have gotten harder to see. 

“The reincarnation thing?” Alexander inquires.

“Yeah.”

The person beside him hesitates. “I stopped questioning when I came back after the Haymarket Affair. It just… happens. And we’ve got to make the most of it.”

(Aaron grimaces as he remembers the Haymarket Affair - Alexander had been so involved in protests (of course he was, he _always_ was); it was no wonder he was killed. Alexander had died in Aaron’s arms while Aaron held back tears, trying to be strong for the one who was dying. “I’ll see you next time,” Alexander had whispered with his dying breath, and Aaron was alone again).

“I’m sorry.” Alexander says. Aaron nods. It was over one hundred years ago, anyway. “At least I stopped doing reckless shit like that.” 

Aaron smiles. “You invested _all_ of our money in the stock market right before it crashed.” 

“We had a damn good time in the twenties, though.” Alexander responds (he’s right. They had money – a lot of it. It was spent, of course, on the most lavish lifestyle available – illegal alcohol (many have said Alexander was the person who originally got the prohibition ball rolling with his whiskey tax. In response to that, Alexander would scoff and down another beer), a penthouse apartment in the heart of Manhattan, and general excess on necessities like food and clothing (Alexander looked _damn good_ in one of those flapper girl dresses)). 

“Mm, we did. Thirties weren’t great, though.” Aaron says. Alexander agrees.

“Forties were okay.”

Aaron rolls his eyes. “Easy for you to say – you _died_.” 

“So did you! At least I died valiantly – you… what’d you do? Off yourself, right? God, I can’t remember.” 

Aaron shakes his head. “I told you not to join the war and you got yourself killed storming Normandy.”

“And then you hanged yourself. ‘S a shame, too. You would’ve been an excellent fifties housewife.” Alexander notes, smiling.

“You’re the one who likes wearing skirts, not me.” Aaron points out.

“Look, as much as I love fighting with you, we did enough of that in the sixties.” (He’s right). 

“Mm.”

Aaron stops talking and just lays there, looking at the stars (looking at Alexander). Their breath fogs with every exhale, for though much has changed in New York, the cold hasn’t. There’s hardly any stars left in the sky – most of the bright dots in the sky are just planes.

The silence is broken by Alexander, but his voice is soft, like he knows the silence is special. “They’ve come so far.”

Aaron knows he means the human race.

Aaron hums and raises his hand, which in turn raises Alexander’s hand, as their fingers are intertwined. 

“ _We’ve_ come so far,” Aaron says, his voice as reverent as Alexander’s, as if talking at a normal volume would disrupt the universe.

“So we have.” Alexander agrees.

They kiss.


End file.
